


Haunted Mirrors and the Ghosts Within

by lilsamarooo



Series: The Horrifying Adventures of Jaskier and Bee! [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Slash, peep the SPN reference at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25187065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsamarooo/pseuds/lilsamarooo
Summary: Jaskier liked the mirror. He’d bought it at a flea market for a suspiciously cheap price, but nothing seemed to be wrong with it. When he’d sent a picture of the dusty thing to his best friend, Priscilla, she suggested that he throw it out in the nearest dumpster.Rude.Or,Jaskier finds himself with a haunted mirror and the ghost of a seriously pissed off little girl, and it’s up to Geralt and his brothers to save the day.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Horrifying Adventures of Jaskier and Bee! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826122
Comments: 12
Kudos: 168





	Haunted Mirrors and the Ghosts Within

**Author's Note:**

> Happy reading!

❧

Jaskier liked the [ mirror](https://i.etsystatic.com/18037876/r/il/601bbe/2041887119/il_1140xN.2041887119_cj9i.jpg). He’d bought it at a flea market for a suspiciously cheap price, but nothing seemed to be _wrong_ with it. When he’d sent a picture of the dusty thing to his best friend, Priscilla, she suggested that he throw it out in the nearest dumpster.

Rude.

It may be a little old, and the edge of the elegant gold frame was a little cracked and crumbling, but Jaskier thought it fit the whole vintage vibe he had going on. He stepped down from his bathroom counter and set down the hammer he’d used to nail the mirror to the wall. Moving back, he wiped his hands on his jeans and smiled proudly. _It looks great, and I did it all by myself,_ the barista thought, gathering his hammer and measuring tape and putting them back in the toolbox.

Turning off the lights, Jaskier shut the door to the bathroom (he’d learned the hard way that his Maine Coon cat, Bee, liked to swim in the toilet water occasionally) and headed into the kitchen to get dinner ready. He’d gotten off his shift at the local coffee shop an hour ago and had wanted to get the mirror business out of the way. Now he was looking forward to spending time with his cat and watching The Office reruns.

As soon as Jaskier opened the can of wet food, a meow made him turn around, and he cooed at the sight of a sleepy Bee, obviously having just woken up from a nap. The she-cat’s orange coat looked like flames in the fading sunlight and her amber eyes were locked intensely on the can of food in Jaskier’s hand.

“Hello, Bee! Are you ready for dinner?” he asked, grinning. Bee gave another loud meow in response, as if she were saying “yes please!”. Grabbing Bee’s bowl of… whatever they put in wet cat food, and his own bowl of leftover ravioli, he sat on the couch and watched as Bee hopped up next to him and sniffed at her bowl. He’d left off on “Koi Pond”, his favorite episode, and soon enough they were both digging into their meals.

A couple hours later, a jaw-cracking yawn forced Jaskier to pause the show and turn off the TV. They’d watched at least 5 episodes and he was starting to get tired. Wiping sweat off of his forehead, he stood up with a groan. The AC in his apartment apparently couldn’t handle so many people using it during the heatwave and had broken, but that didn’t explain the cool air he’d feel when walking past his landlord’s rooms.

 _A shower will be good,_ the barista thought, absently scratching behind Bee’s ears. After putting away the dishes, he plugged his phone into the charger near his kitchen counter and walked through the connecting door to his bathroom. It was a bit on the small side, but it was still nice enough for a crappy one bedroom apartment.

He stopped in the middle of the bathroom at the sudden feel of chilly air on his skin. Rubbing his arms, Jaskier frowned in confusion. It was boiling outside. Why was his bathroom so cold? After a minute of checking the bathroom for leaks or cracks, he eventually shrugged and chalked it up to the weirdness of the apartment.

Turning on the shower, Jaskier gave it a second for the water to heat up while he stripped and put his clothes in the laundry basket outside the bathroom door. Making sure both doors to the bathroom were locked, Jaskier nodded, satisfied that everything was in place, and stepped into the shower. 

Before he closed the curtain, the barista saw the light bulbs flickering above the mirror. Great, another thing to repair. That’s just what he needed on his relaxing weekend.

Grabbing his shampoo, Jaskier began soaping up his hair when he heard faint taps coming from outside the shower. Ignoring them, he tipped his head back and rinsed his hair out, but soon they were loud enough that Jaskier was surprised the door wasn’t rattling on its hinges a little. Maybe Bee wanted to come in?

“Bee, I’m almost done baby!” He called out, perplexed. Bee didn’t usually make this much of a fuss when he was showering. A shiver made its way down Jaskier’s spine as the water turned cold all the sudden. Hissing in surprise, he shut off the water and was just about to pull back the shower curtain when he noticed something that made his heart jump into his throat.

A shadowy figure stood on the other side of the curtain.

The tapping still hadn’t stopped but now, with the water off, Jaskier realized that the noise hadn’t been coming from the other side of the door, it’d been coming from _inside_ the bathroom. A methodical _tap tap tap_ , as if someone was drumming their fingers on the counter, waiting for him to come out.

A small whimper forced itself out of the barista’s mouth and he stepped back, flinching when his back pressed against the ice cold tile that lined the shower. Gods, he was going to die, wasn’t he? His phone was back in the kitchen and both doors in the bathroom were locked. How had someone gotten in? Had they been there before he’d gotten home, watching and waiting to sneak up on him? The thought terrified Jaskier, and he breathed out shakily, trapped, having no idea what to do.

He was torn out of his head a few moments later when he looked back to the curtain. The shadow was gone.

Jaskier exhaled shakily and scanned his eyes over the curtain. Where had the figure gone? _I’m losing my mind,_ the barista thought, fisting his hands and feeling pricks of pain as his nails cut into his palms. _I was imagining it, there’s nothing there._

Heartbeat beginning to slow, Jaskier believed he was safe for all of two seconds, before a small, icy hand on his shoulder had him turning to look beside him.

A scream of pure terror split the air, and Jaskier took a second to realize that it was him that was screaming. Could you blame him?

Standing in front of him was a girl, maybe 12, wearing a sopping white nightgown. The gown was yellowed with age and torn, even stained a rusty red color in some spots. Gray skin radiating cold made him look up, and where long, greasy black hair parted, two sunken eyes were revealed, freezing him where he stood. The constant drip of dirty water off of her fingertips was strangely mesmerizing.

Jaskier’s feet moved faster than his brain and he scrambled out of the shower, legs getting caught in the curtain. Hitting the ground hard knocked the breath out of him, and the barista could only watch as the girl slowly approached him, her face splitting into a wide grin that sent a shudder up his spine.

Pulling and tugging at the curtain around his waist did nothing, and Jaskier screamed again at the first touch of the girl’s hand on his face. The appendage was so cold that it felt like fire on his cheek, and he twisted and bucked in an attempt to knock it off of him.

“Stop, _stop, please!_ ” he begged, feeling his tears freeze onto his face under the girl’s hand. She only tilted her head and leaned over him, that unnerving smile still plastered onto her face. Icy water dripped onto his chest and a desperate, choked off scream was the last noise he made before her hands wrapped around his throat. The little girl leaned down, whispering into his ear, and the barista saw dark spots as her hands tightened.

 _“I’m so cold…”_ she hissed, dripping hair surrounding them like a hellish halo. _“I’m always SO COLD.”_

Jaskier felt the life being ripped from him, painfully slow, and his vision was nearly gone by the time the one of the doors to the bathroom was kicked in with ferocious strength.

The hands left his throat and Jaskier coughed, curling in on himself. Tears ran down his face, blurring nearly everything, but he could still make out the white-haired man that stormed into the bathroom, holding a… box of salt? The man kind of looked like a snowman, Jaskier thought hysterically as he tried to choke back his sobs.

A salt circle was made around the bathroom and before he knew it, he was being scooped up into strong arms like a toddler, shower curtain and all. The barista wrapped his legs around the man’s waist and buried his face into the snowman’s neck, still crying and not caring a bit about the tears he was without a doubt getting on the other man’s shirt.

The furious screams of the girl rang out from the bathroom, and Jaskier flinched, gripping onto the back of the man’s shirt tightly.

“It’s alright,” the snowman said in a deep, gravely voice. If this were any other time Jaskier would’ve swooned at the sound. Too bad he’d almost been killed by a psychotic little girl. “The ghost can't get past the salt circle.”

“The _what?_ ” Jaskier croaked out, wincing as his throat burned. Did the snowman just say he had a _ghost_ in his bathroom? An _actual_ ghost?

“Do you want to get dressed?” Snowman asked, dodging his question. Jaskier looked down and noted that yes, he was still wearing the shower curtain around his waist like some dollar store skirt. Nodding hesitantly, Jaskier pointed to his bedroom door.

As soon as he was set on his feet, Jaskier yelped and nearly fell on his face. An arm around his waist stopped him and he turned to see Snowman by his side, an unreadable expression on his face. “Your ankle is sprained,” he said in a monotone voice. Jaskier blinked in surprise and looked down to see that his ankle was indeed swollen and bruised.

“Oh,” he replied intelligently. The barista let himself be picked up again and placed on his small bed. As he sat and stared fearfully at the door leading to his bathroom, Snowman rummaged through his drawers and got out a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt that he stole from his older brother ages ago. Putting the clothes down next to him, Snowman patted his shoulder and began to turn around.

“Get changed. I’ll be in the living room.” was the last he said before stepping outside and shutting the door behind him. Jaskier wiped the tears off his face and frowned as he caught a glimpse of himself in the bedroom mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, and his face was splotchy. A ring of dark bruises lined his throat and he winced at the clear shapes of handprints among the morbid necklace.

Jaskier slipped on his clothes without much difficulty and hesitated when he reached for the doorknob. Who even was this strange man that’d shown up and saved him from the… ghost in his bathroom? Deciding to fuck it, Jaskier opened the door and wandered into the living room, leaning on the walls to take the weight off his foot, but there was nobody to be seen. Looking around, he saw that his door had been kicked in and Bee was missing.

Tears welled up in his eyes before he could stop them. Usually Bee was here with him when he needed comfort, but now she was gone and there was a _ghost_ in his bathroom and he really just wanted to have a nice weekend, but apparently that was too much to ask.

Heavy steps sounded in the hallway and another man appeared, short, dark hair and green eyes with the same slitted pupils as the other man. They both stopped and stared at each other in shock until the green-eyed man moved forward.

“Where’s Snowman?” Jaskier rasped, not noticing what he’d said until the other man gave a loud laugh and grinned, looking behind him and Jaksier turned to see Snowman standing behind him, a strange look in his eyes.

“Geralt, he called you _snowman_ , you gonna take that lying down?” The man said between laughs, and Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up.

“It’s not like he ever introduced himself!” This just made the man laugh more, and Jaskier turned to… Geralt, wiping away the few tears that’d fallen when he’d thought about- “Bee!” He exclaimed, startling the two men.

“What bee?” Geralt asked, looking around confusedly. Jaskier limped to the door and almost ran into a _third_ man with large scars over his eye as he walked into the apartment holding an angry Maine Coon.

“Bee! You found her!” Jaskier smiled happily and took the large cat from the man’s arms, cuddling her to his chest.

“You named your cat after an insect? You and Geralt are going to get along great,” the green-eyed man groaned. An annoyed “shut up, Lambert” from Geralt made Jaskier turn and face the three strangers that had walked into his apartment.

“Um,” he started, not sure what to say. What _do_ you say to three men that saved you from a ghost? “Who are you guys? And why is there a… ghost in my bathroom trying to kill me?” Bee meowed in agreement and he scratched behind her ears, trying to ignore the slight burn in his arms. She was really getting heavy.

The man with the scars spoke first. “I’m Eskel and these are my brothers, Geralt and Lambert. We hunt monsters,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

“Monsters… like _vampires_ and stuff?” He asked, curling his arms around Bee protectively. “Those exist?”

Geralt nodded and pointed to the bathroom. “You were being haunted by a ghost. They’re tied to an object that was important in their life or their bones. Did you put anything new in the bathroom recently?”

Jaskier blinked and groaned. “Yeah, the mirror. I should’ve listened to Priscilla and thrown it out,” he mumbled.

Without a word, Geralt turned around and headed for the bathroom, and soon they all heard the telltale noise of glass shattering and hitting the floor. Bee hissed and pressed her head into Jaskier’s neck, not liking the loud noise. Gently shushing her, Jaskier readjusted his grip on the cat and pet her head, startling as Lambert began to talk.

“You know, I’ve never seen a cat that big,” he said, watching Bee curiously. Jaskier could also see Eskel peeking out of the corner of his eye by the door.

“She’s a Maine Coon. I got her from the shelter and I didn’t know her breed until she was bigger than a small dog. I just thought she was just fat,” Jaskier admitted, and Eskel smiled while Lambert snorted.

Geralt came out seconds later with the shattered mirror in his hand and he passed it to Eskel as he dug through the many pockets on his leather jacket.

“Here,” he said, handing Jaskier a card. “That’s our number. Call us if you ever need our kind of help again.”

Jaskier nodded and smiled shyly at the three. “Thank you for saving my life.” He turned to Eskel. “And my cat.”

The men looked surprised at the thanks, which was odd. Did people not thank them for saving them from monsters?

“We’d better get going,” Geralt said, heading for the door. He was almost in the hallway when Lambert whipped around and shouted “ _Wait!_ ”

The others looked at him, alarmed, but he pointed at Jaskier and said, “You never told us your name.” Geralt scowled and Eskel smacked him upside the head, earning a small “ _ow!_ ” from his brother.

“Oh,” Jaskier said, surprised. “My name’s Jaskier.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaskier,” Lambert called as he was tugged into the hallway. Jaskier stood in the middle of the living room for a while, still holding Bee, until he realized his front door and his bathroom door would have to be replaced and he groaned.

“Well Bee, I don’t know about you, but that was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Bee meowed and curled up in her cat bed, exhausted from her trip to the hallway.

He shut the door and placed a chair under the handle as a temporary lock. It was only after he’d flopped down onto the couch that he noticed he was still holding the card that Geralt had given him. Jaskier flipped it over and hummed thoughtfully at the contents.

**Morhen Brothers**

**Saving People, Hunting Things.**

**The Family Business.**

**(XXX) XXX-XXXX**

❧

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this! Do you guys want a part 2?  
> Kudos + Comments are appreciated!


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